


Now when we're old

by Ifoundnemo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character, Children, F/M, Grandparents & Grandchildren, M/M, Scenting, Sharing a Room, elderly, i think, sorry for the slight bit of death, still a nice ending though, there should be more fics where sterek are older
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:15:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ifoundnemo/pseuds/Ifoundnemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' skin was soft, the years passing making it worn and thin; his bones brittle and fragile. He was still the man they all knew, but older.<br/>Derek's hair was grey and white now, his beard more straggle than stubble. His whole life could be read on his face, almost like a map, outlining his joys and tears.</p>
<p>We all know how their lives together began, but how did it end.</p>
<p>Believe it or not the ending is kinda happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now when we're old

They were old now.

Stiles' skin was soft, the years passing making it worn and thin; his bones brittle and fragile. He was still the man they all knew, but older. No one could remember when it happened, just that as the children grew up, the grandchildren sitting on his knee, the students he taught, the knowledge he wove into their young impressionable lives... he just got old.

Derek's hair was grey and white now, his beard more straggle than stubble. His whole life could be read on his face, almost like a map, outlining his joys and tears. With Stiles in it, the laughter lines were deeper than the frown. The happiness and contentment, as the grandchildren played around him came off in waves. The small smile that would play his lips, as he held small Laura in his arms, the smile that reached his eyes, the understanding and kindness shone deep within, from a man who had found himself. He still didn't talk as much as the others, keen on the theory that actions speak louder than words, and really he and Stiles had no need to communicate when they already knew what the other was thinking.

His wolf was old too. Still strong, still proud but his fur was almost white now. He was no longer the alpha of his pack, that title had long ago been handed to his son, no, now he was an Elder. Still respected, still feared, but feared for a different reason. Derek was no longer feared for what he could do, but for what he had done. No wolf with that many victories, pack members, and invisible scars could be anything but strong, with more allies than enemy's... with people who loved him all around, still willing to fight when he called.

Stiles talks less now, he falls asleep in odd places; on Derek's shoulder, on the stairs, and one memorable time on the lilo in the middle of the ocean. Apparently the movement of the waves was so relaxing he hadn't noticed he was slowly being washed out to sea. Derek doesn't mind, he still gets annoyed, their fights are still spectacular, but they both know that whatever the outcome, nothing either of them could say would possibly hurt the other.

The children visit less. 

Stiles comments one day that they seem to be attending more funerals than they do birthdays. Derek replies that they have gotten to the point in life where life stops giving, and starts taking away. Stiles tells him to stop quoting Indiana Jones and if he does to at least make it one of the first three, as the last one clearly spoiled what was an amazing trilogy.

The sex is still fucking fantastic.

Christmas is a mixture of emotions. While the grandchildren run, full of excitement, ripping open presents, the younger ones more interested in the wrapping than the gifts inside, sometimes all Stiles can see are the ghosts sitting on the couch next to him. His Dad and Melissa, who after years of searching finally found each other. The memory of Scott, cuddling up to a still very much alive Allison, who has a grandchild on each knee. Even Peter sits there in his imagination judging and mocking with fondness in his eyes. Nobody killed them, they weren't tortured or in pain, they just, drifted away... and didn't come back. He goes very quiet when Christmas comes, likes to sit still and remember. It is times like this when Derek takes Stiles into his arms again, or one of their children gives him an embrace... just to let him know that he is not alone in remembering, and that it is okay to still be sad.

Derek keeps forgetting things. Not anything big, like who Stiles is, or what their address is, just where he left the keys, what to buy in the shops, what day it is, or if he left the gas oven on. Each time it happens Stiles just smiles and gives him a kiss on the cheek saying "Don't worry Sourwolf, I'm still here to look after you."

Neither of them says anything about the time when he might not be.

Their life proceeds at a happy pace, very unlike the misspent adventures of their youth. They don't live like that any more... but they tell the stories. Who needs story books, the grandchildren ask, when Grandad can tell real life tales that are twice as scary, and twice as good! Who can be scared of monsters when Grandpa is downstairs, and he used to eat monsters, he really did!! Their parents smile, kiss them goodnight, and go downstairs to their parents, telling them to stop filling the children's heads with stories before they go to the bottom of the garden in search of Kanimas. They tell their Dads about how they got a promotion at work, how they negotiated with faery clan, or bought a new house. They try to keep down the smiles when they see proud looks in their Dads faces, and vow to themselves to come back more often, and hug them more. After all they won't be here forever.

Stiles makes Derek promise to smile at least once a day after he is gone, he'll be damned if all his hard work goes to waste.

The Grandchildren have grown up, the youngest, Laura, just leaving for university, and the oldest, Jeremy, married and just had his second child. Derek and Stiles take Laura out for dinner once a fortnight, just like the other grandchildren before her. They love hearing about what she gets up to, and tell her she needs to eat more.

 

One day Stiles wakes up with a funny feeling. He calls each of his children, his grandchildren, his great-grandchildren and his closest friends as Derek sits by his side nuzzling into his side, almost afraid to ask what he is doing. Stiles asks them what they have been up to, what they plan to do, and tells them that he loves them. He gets them to speak to Derek too. I don't think they notice anything strange.

Next he calls his lawyer, and makes sure his will is in order and that the accounts are set up properly.

Derek picks up the courage to ask... Stiles says he just had a feeling that he needed to do these things today, he doesn't know why; he just woke up with a strange vibe telling him something was going to happen.

Derek doesn't leave his side for the rest of the day.

That day Stiles is peppered in kisses, held in Derek's arms longer than normal. He cooks their favourite meals, re-watches Doctor Who and Harry Potter, and says to Derek everything that goes unsaid in their relationship. The "When you arrived, my life changed, and if you weren't there to shape it, even now I don't know how I could have lived" and the "I love you more than I ever thought possible." It's a good day.

That night Derek cries, because he knows what is going to happen, and he can do nothing to prevent it. He lets Stiles comfort him, his turn to be showered in kisses and love. He tells Stiles all the things he doesn't think he said enough. "I can't imagine what I would be like without you... you are my very heart and soul, and I love you more, than I have loved anything on this earth" and "I wouldn't know what to do without you."

They make love under the moonlight. Stiles still beautiful in Derek's eyes, the long lines of his body still enough to take Derek's breath away, and make him linger. Derek still handsome to Stiles who moans under each caress, loving the whimpers he draws out of Derek in return. He has always loved them. When they finally come together, as happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. Sound stopped, light stopped for much, much more than a moment. Time lengthened and stretched, the love and the pleasure the two men felt, circled back on them through the bond they shared. 

Then gradually time awakened moving sluggishly on. Derek pulled Stiles into the circle of his arms, breathing in his scent, drowning in it. They kissed and held each other close until weariness overtook them, and they fell deep asleep.

 

Stiles was a little surprised to wake up the following morning. He had been almost sure that it was his time to go, but the heavy weight of Derek's arms still around him confirmed that he was still very much alive. One of said arms rested on his bladder, he slightly nudged Derek in an effort to make him move. The odd feeling was still there, but it was different now, it was like something right in front of his eyes had gone wrong, and he just couldn't see it yet. He looked up into Derek's peacefully sleeping face, deciding whatever it was it could wait, and snuggled back down into the werewolf's hot chest.

Or it should have been hot.

As it was, it was only warm and not moving. He listened and he couldn't hear a heartbeat. 

Time stopped. It didn't stretch, or lengthen it stopped, as his brain tried to catch up with what his senses were telling him. The body beneath his hands was slowly cooling, the pillow underneath his head was getting wetter, and a noise like strange gasping was filling the room. 

This had to be a dream. This was not how it was supposed to go. Derek couldn't die... it wasn't possible. He wasn't prepared for this, how was he supposed to get on with his life knowing when he got up Derek wouldn't be downstairs making breakfast, that when he went out Derek wouldn't be next to him growling at the boys in hoodies by the bus stop, that when he went to bed... his lover wouldn't be lying next to him. 

The wet pillow, and the noises made sense now as he felt the tears running down his face, as he shook in his dead husbands embrace. Stiles knew he should move but he couldn't, he couldn't bring himself to move from the shell of the man he loved. He knew it was ridiculous, but how could anyone judge him for wanting to stay in that embrace. An embrace that had already lost the man that gave it… that was already verging on a memory. 

Stiles broke down when time snapped back into place as the phone rang. 

He vaguely remembers what happened next. 

He remembers being pulled out of their bed, dressed and hugged and put in a car. 

He remembers being put in the spare room at his son's house and being forced to eat and drink and sleep in an empty bed. 

He remembers waking up in the middle of the night and telling Derek to come to bed from where he was reading at the desk, only to remember that Derek wasn't there. 

He remembers his children coming in and sitting by him, and offering them comfort because they lost a father just as he had lost his husband. 

He remembers being forced into the black suit that he wore to all the funerals, and crying because whoever had got it had picked up Derek's tie and not his. When I say 'vaguely remembers' I mean 'remembers in absolute and relentless detail'. 

He definitely remembers the funeral. The coffin being lowered into the ground, the speeches that were made, as everyone tried their best to sum up the enigma that was Derek Hale… none of them managed it. When it was his turn he cried most of the way through his speech, he tried to make people smile in Derek's memory... he remembered to smile at the end to. 

He remembered the long line of people offering condolences, and if one more person said sorry for your loss he was going to punch someone.

He remembers when it's all over going back for the first time to an empty house, and sitting in the dark with one of Derek's shirts on, the scent still strong enough to be smelt by his pathetic human nose, and crying himself to sleep.

He remembers the lonely days, weeks, months that followed. The persona he put on for the grandchildren, the great-grandchildren, and the act he put on for his children, praying that they wouldn't leave. 

They did.

He was a broken man living a broken life, in a broken house. He lived the most exquisite kind of torture, the deepest pain he had ever had to endure for his family.

Nothing was the same, and he couldn't find it in himself to adapt. He had spent all of his life but 18 years with one man… he couldn't change now.

He had leftovers in the fridge from when he cooked for two people, but Derek wasn't there. He gave them to the grandchildren.

He slept on one side of the bed, while pretending the other side still smelt like Derek. It didn't.

He forced himself through the normalities of everyday life. He didn't talk so much, went for long walks outside. He didn't tell anyone about the pain of an old man. Who would want to listen anyway?

One day he woke up with a funny feeling. He calls up his friends, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He asks them what they have been up to, what they plan to do, and tells them that he loves them. I think they notice something is wrong.

He calls his lawyer, but the arrangements have already been made.

He walks about the empty house, touching each of his processions, watching the memories they prompted play out before his eyes. He watches Doctor Who and Harry Potter, and eats pizza heated up from two nights ago.

He goes to bed wondering about the inevitable. For the first time falling asleep on the wrong side of the bed, pretending Derek is wrapped around him.

 

Stiles wakes up enclosed in the circle of Derek's arms. He smiles into Derek's chest, feeling the warmth, and the strong heartbeat, as if he was never gone. The musky smell of the woods clings to Derek’s skin, as Stiles burrows his face in.

"Is this what heaven is looks like?"

He feels Derek smirk into the top of his head, breathing in his scent, and tightening his strong arms around him.

"Shut up Stiles."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you don't hate me to much.
> 
> Also the English students amongst may have noticed the mice of men reference, it is my excuse to myself for writing fan fiction and not revising.
> 
> This is something that I have been thinking about recently, so I thought I would just run with it.
> 
> Also as of yet unbeta-ed let me know about any mistakes.
> 
> i hope i didn't hurt anyone, I cried when I wrote it.


End file.
